


Hold It

by cinnabongene



Series: Golden Boy [1]
Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: Awkward Boners, Desperation, Gen, Omorashi, Trapped In Elevator, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7720648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnabongene/pseuds/cinnabongene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy and Hamlin get stuck in an elevator together. Jimmy really wishes he hadn't drank so much coffee that morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold It

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the anon who requested more piss Saul adventures on Tumblr. If you don't like really detailed descriptions of people pissing their pants, then this is probably not the fic for you... If you're into that kind of stuff, enjoy.

“Howard, wait!” Jimmy called out, sprinting towards the elevator as the doors were closing. "Hold it!" 

Hamlin sighed, praying to himself that Jimmy wouldn’t make it. He wasn’t going to go so far as to hit the “close doors” button, but he certainly wasn’t going to hold them either. Jimmy’s foot landed in the gap just in time. He stepped inside as the doors parted for him. Hamlin forced a smile. “Hello, Jimmy.” 

“What floor you going to?” Jimmy asked. 

“Six,” said Hamlin, tilting his head toward the panel which was already lit up with his floor number. 

“Oh. Up,” said Jimmy with a grimace. 

“Is that a problem?” 

“No, I just… really have to get these papers back down to the mailroom,” said Jimmy, too embarrassed to tell Howard that what he really needed was to get the paperwork off his hands so he could use the restroom. He’d drank three cups of coffee that morning and had been running around the office for so long that he hadn’t had a chance to relieve himself yet. 

“Well, you’ll be there soon enough,” the other man replied, checking his watch and hoping to avoid further conversation. 

Jimmy was searching for something to say when the elevator lurched to a halt. The sudden motion jostled his bladder, making him squirm. Hamlin let out an exasperated sigh. “Really? Again? I keep telling Chuck we need to get this thing fixed.” 

“You’re telling me we’re stuck?” Jimmy asked. 

Hamlin jabbed at the “open doors” button a few times, but when that yielded no results, he hit the call button. “It’s Howard. The elevator broke down again. Could someone please get us out? I’m supposed to be meeting with a client.” 

“We’ll get right on it, Mr. Hamlin,” a begrudging voice said from the intercom. 

Howard sighed and leaned up against the back of the elevator. “Well, it looks like we might be here a while.” 

“Yeah, uh, how long does it usually take?” Jimmy asked, avoiding eye contact and trying not to let his desperation seep into his voice. 

Howard shrugged. “Could be fifteen minutes. Could be an hour.” 

Jimmy’s bladder ached at that. He had been fine with having to hold it for the duration of the ride down from the sixth floor, but an hour? He didn’t think he could make it that long. But he’d have to. There was no way he was gonna piss himself in front of Howard Hamlin. He shuffled his feet and crossed his legs, trying to find a comfortable position to stand in. 

“You alright, Jimmy?” Howard asked, noticing that the man was not his normal gregarious, wisecracking self. 

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” 

Howard was unconvinced. “You’re not claustrophobic, are you?” 

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…” Might as well give up the act; Howard was going to figure it out sooner or later. “I really gotta take a leak.” 

“Oh,” said Howard, unsure of how else to respond to that. “Well, I’m sure we’ll be out soon enough.” 

Jimmy fidgeted with the rolled up sleeves of his light blue dress shirt. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Time passed at an agonizing pace in the tight confines of the little elevator. Hamlin leaned back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling, making every effort to ignore Jimmy, whose constant fidgeting was making the situation even more unbearable. Jimmy was sweating profusely, and he couldn’t stand still. No matter how he stood, the pressure on his bladder was unrelenting. He could feel himself shaking from the effort of holding it in. 

Jimmy looked down at his watch. Seventeen minutes had passed since they’d gotten stuck. “Shit,” he muttered to himself. He couldn’t take this anymore. He grabbed his cock through his pants and squeezed it; anything to feel like he wasn’t going to lose control right there. 

Hamlin glanced over and saw Jimmy leaned against the wall, biting his lip, and grabbing his crotch. “What are you doing? Stop that.” 

“Would you rather I do this or piss all over your nice floor?” Jimmy snapped. Howard said nothing and averted his gaze. “That’s what I thought.” 

Jimmy was panicking now. Even if the elevator doors miraculously opened right this second, he doubted he’d be able to make it down the hall and to the restroom without humiliating himself. It was starting to look like he wasn’t going to have a choice in the matter. Why did it have to be Hamlin? With anyone else, he could have lived it down, but pissing himself in front Hamlin? Goodbye, future career as a lawyer at HHM; hello, lifetime of humiliation. His whole body was trembling now. He just had to keep holding it. Just focus on breathing. Just don’t lose control. 

Then he felt it. Just a small dribble at first, barely dampening his boxers. But he knew it meant the end for him. “Shit, I can’t hold it anymore,” he gritted out from behind clenched teeth 

“Come on, Jimmy. You’re not really going to piss yourself,” said Howard, but as he looked over at the other man, he saw a small wet patch had appeared on the front of Jimmy’s grey slacks. 

Jimmy hadn’t been able to stop the spurt from leaking out. He had hoped it wouldn’t be enough to show through, but judging by the disgusted and horrified look on Howard’s face, that ship had sailed. 

“Pull yourself together. I don’t want to have this floor cleaned,” warned Hamlin. 

Jimmy held himself tighter, only to feel more wetness soak out against his palm as another spurt escaped. “I’m sorry. I can’t—” And that was it. The dam broke, and he felt a steady stream of piss start to flow from his cock, soaking through his boxers to the front of his pants. He knew there’d be no point in trying to stop it now. He was really pissing himself in front of Howard. 

He felt it streaming against the hand that was still desperately holding his crotch and gushing out from between his fingers before running in hot rivulets down his legs. There, it soaked into his socks before pooling in his shoes. He felt his face burning red hot with shame, but he was helpless to stop the flow. Instead he just stood there, hunched over and holding his crotch as the piss drained out of him. 

Tears pricked at his eyes as the sensation of finally releasing that pressure overtook him. He hadn’t expected it to feel so warm and the relief to feel so good. For a moment, he forgot about Howard, forgot about being trapped in the elevator, forgot about his rapidly disappearing future career prospects, and was just lost in the sensation of warmth and relief. He didn’t even stop the soft moan that escaped from the back of his throat. 

Hamlin just stared at first. It was like a bad car wreck; he knew he should look away, but he just couldn’t. When a puddle started to form under Jimmy’s feet, he took a step to the side to protect his own shoes, and averted his gaze. 

Finally, Jimmy could feel that he was almost empty. There had been a moment where he thought it would never end. But now the flow was dribbling to a stop, no longer splashing against the floor, just further saturating his ruined boxers. He let out the final few spurts, and then opened his eyes. The puddle underneath him was sizable. Definitely not something he could pass off as spilled water. His drenched pants were glaringly conspicuous as well. Of course it was _today_ he’d decided not to wear black. It was time to face the music. He straightened up and glanced over to Howard. 

Hamlin shot Jimmy a glare dripping with contempt and disgust. “For Christ’s sake, Jimmy,” he said, shaking his head to himself. 

Jimmy felt a rush of heat in his cheeks and stomach at the sight of Howard’s appalled look. He shifted uncomfortably. Not only was the piss getting unbearably cold, but Howard’s disdain, coupled with his own humiliation, was having an effect he hadn’t anticipated. _Not now,_ he thought to himself. Now, when everyone had good cause to be staring at his crotch, was not the time to become aroused. If Hamlin knew he got off on stuff like this, then it really would be the end for Jimmy. 

The elevator jolted. A second later, they were moving. “Thank god,” Howard muttered to himself, straightening his tie and preparing to face the secondhand embarrassment. 

Jimmy was praying no one would be there when the doors opened. If this little incident could stay between him, Howard, and the cleaning crew, maybe he’d be able to show his face in here again. He just wanted to go home, change, and drown this memory in as much alcohol as possible. The elevator came to a smooth stop, and the doors rolled open. 

Standing there, waiting to greet the freed captives, was a small crowd of HHM employees, including Kim Wexler and Chuck. Howard stepped out of the elevator without a word and quickly retreated to his office, leaving everyone to stare at the remaining man and his soaked pants. 

“Jimmy!” Chuck chastised. “You really couldn’t hold it for 25 minutes? I would have thought this was beyond you. Apparently not." He turned to one of his unfortunate paralegals. "Go get someone to clean this up." 

Jimmy was frozen with shame, completely unsure of how to react now. He could have held his head high and made it back to his car if anyone else had seen him like this, but not Chuck. Even his own brother was disgusted with him. 

Kim stepped forward and grabbed Jimmy by the arm. “Come on,” she said with gentle urgency. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Flabbergasted, Jimmy let her lead him away from the disgusted gazes of Chuck and the others, pulling him along by the sleeve. “Thanks for saving me back there,” he said once he’d recovered enough to regain his voice. “Chuck and Howard seemed pretty mad, huh? I guess I deserve that.” 

Kim stopped and turned to face him. “No, you don’t deserve to be treated like that. It could have happened to anyone. Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up before anyone else sees.” She briefly contemplated asking him what the boner was about, but ultimately decided she didn’t want to know.


End file.
